


Wrecked

by ButterflyGhost



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Breakup, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:38:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7601911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you, Bluehaven, for your beta, and encouraging me to post, even though it broke your heart.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Wrecked

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Bluehaven, for your beta, and encouraging me to post, even though it broke your heart.

 

Benny never touched me after Victoria. I mean, yeah, he touched me, but never again like that. Nobody else would have seen the change, but that’s because nobody else knew we were together. We touched a lot; we always had, but he never – he never even kissed me again. Not even a breakup kiss, an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ kiss. Hell, not even an ‘I’ll always love you, but’ kiss.

 

I’ve had those kisses before. Marco, Irene, Angie. They break your heart every damn time, but I’d have taken even that. It would have been something. An acknowledgement that  _ we _ had been something. But he just – never referred to it again. Like it had never happened, like  _ we’d _ never happened. I was so damn lonely for him, even though he was always at my side. Fuck, it hurts now just thinking about it.

 

Me? I’m a loser. I kissed him, one last time. We were on stakeout, and it was my turn to sleep. I woke to a sense of being watched, and when I opened my eyes, there was that look on his face. Such a damn, sorrowful look. For a moment, he was so wide open and vulnerable. I saw it. I know I saw it; I _know_ because I felt it too. A bruised longing. I was half asleep still, and couldn’t help it. It’s like there was a hook in my heart, and he just tugged it. He always had done. So, I leant across and pressed my mouth to his. It was inevitable, like the tide.

 

For a fraction of a second, he yielded to me, opened up. My hands were clutching his biceps, and my tongue slid past his teeth, over his own warm one. He suckled for a moment, made a noise in his throat; when he pulled away, his eyelashes were spiky with tears.

 

“Benny?” I said, and my voice was wrecked. Everything was wrecked. I’d wrecked it, he’d wrecked it, that bitch Victoria had wrecked it.

 

He smiled. It was the saddest smile I’ve ever seen, and then he turned his head away. His voice sounded normal when he spoke.

 

“I don’t think Jackson is coming tonight.”

 

So, it was like that, was it? I took a breath and steeled myself.

 

“Reckon you’re right.” My voice sounded normal too. “He’s not an idiot; he’s got to know someone’s watching his mother’s place.”

 

Benny nodded, and that was that.

 

Yeah. It’s like that. I know he loves me, God knows that I love him. But he never touched me again.

 

The whole damn thing was wrecked.

~*~

 

Ray Kowalski is kissing me. My arms go up around him, and my mouth opens. It’s been so long since anyone kissed me, and I’ve lived so long on the memory of that last kiss. This first kiss – oh. I push into it, and my heart is so big in my chest, no, in my throat, that I can hardly breathe. For a moment I forget.

 

“God, Fraser,” he moans into my mouth, and I feel his erection hard against my hip.

 

I panic at that. “No,” I try to say, but he swallows the word, doesn’t hear it. I need to break the kiss before he realises that I... but I can’t. I can’t break the kiss. I’m so hungry for touch, so hungry for –

 

He slides his thigh between my legs to rub against me, and I pull my head back, turn my face from him. I am pressed up against the wall, and can’t move any further back. I can feel the weight of him, the wire and strength, but I can’t feel him where it counts. Oh God. I am flushed with shame, and my breath is coming out in panicked gasps. It takes Ray a moment longer to realise what he’s feeling – or more specifically what he’s not feeling.

 

“Frase?” he says, and his voice cracks.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

I manage to look back at him, but my eyes drop from the expression in his. Fear, or shock or - I can’t look at it. I’m shaking. 

 

“Are you –” he swallows and pushes himself back from the wall. “Jesus. Did someone –?”

 

I duck under his arm, and he backs off further as I walk away from him. For an unworthy moment, I consider affecting ignorance as to what he is implying. But I can’t let him think there is truth in it.

 

“No,” I say. “That is if I understand your meaning.”

 

“Then why...?”

 

My flush deepens. Society’s prejudice against the impotent is just that – as petty and vile as any other prejudice. But although I know this intellectually my heart won’t grant assent. I am ashamed. It is vanity, I know, but I cannot bring myself to admit it to him, any more than I could to my first Ray. It would have broken him; he would have always blamed himself for the bullet nestled by my spine. I open my mouth, try again to confess, but the words simply won’t leave my mouth.

 

When Ray speaks again, there is an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. I can’t tell if it is hurt or anger.

 

“Was that like, like a pity kiss? Or was it just a curio thing? ‘Oh, hey, my partner’s queer. I always wondered what it would be like to kiss a dude.’”

 

My jaw drops at that, and I stare at him. “No!” I protest, “not at all. I –”

 

What can I say?  _ ‘I think of you, I want you, I wish –’ _

“It’s alright, Fraser.” I recognise the tone in his voice now. Yes, he is angry, but underneath that he is dejected, rejected, resigned. “Even if you are into guys, I get it.” His mouth twists. “I’m not Vecchio.”

 

My heart lurches. Ray saw that in me. He knew – he  _ knows _ everything about me. Everything except this one thing. This thing that even my doctor doesn’t know. My mouth dries, and I cannot speak.

 

“Yeah.” He smiles, and it is the saddest smile I have ever seen. “You love him.”

 

My eyes flicker away, and with my silence I confirm it. I love Ray Vecchio. But I love Ray Kowalski too.

 

“Please,” I whisper. “Don’t go.”

 

“I’ve done this before.” His voice is soft as he confesses. He is so much braver than I. “I can't do it again. I can't chase someone who doesn’t really want me. Not again.” He steps close to me, lifts his fingers to my face. I close my eyes and lean into the cradle of his hand. I want to kiss him, but I can’t. 

 

“It’s not you,” I plead, “it’s me."

 

“Aw, Jesus, Fraser. I love you.” 

 

He kisses me, lightly on the lips, then steps back, withdrawing his hand. “This never happened,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

 

I am too. My eyes squeeze shut against tears. When I open them, he is gone.


End file.
